A/N:

Hello again! My second story...yet another oneshot....it might not be my best because I much prefer writing evil!Snape....but anyway. Just wanted to say that I wrote this story for skaterkep after reading their story...and it gave me a lot of inspiration! Take this as a personal dedication skaterkep!

Anyway, please review if you have the time...it really helps me to know how I am doing and they are actually the nicest things in the world to read!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Severus Snape (darn) or the song You're No Different by Ozzy Osbourne. I make no profit from this story and only want to write because it is the best thing in the world!

ENJOY!

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The sea pummelled the cliffs, hundreds of feet below him. The clouds were grey and stormy, lightning flashing amongst the rain pounding against his hair, his skin, his robes. The raindrops mingled with the tears on his cheeks as he sat on the edge, staring down at the waves below him.

How many times can you put me down
Till in your heart you realize
If you choose to criticize
You choose your enemies

Who were they to talk to him like that? So superior. They accused him of being a traitor, of being a spy, of being of the Dark. When would they realise that he was fighting for them? Why did he even bother to try when they cruelly ripped him apart every time he showed his face?


Everything that I say and do
In your eyes is always wrong
Tell me, where do I belong
In a sick society

They were always looking at him in that way. They were always looking at him, trying to see through him, to see what he really wanted. All he wanted to do was belong...but did he really want to belong here? All his friends in the world had left him...he was living with Fear and Mistrust and Suspicion. And Hate. What kind of life was this?

You're no different to me
You're no different
No different to me

They were the same as him. They had eyes. They had ears. They had hearts and lungs and guts. They had arms and legs. How was he so different to them? How come his decisions in life had made him so different? Where was the "good" in that? How could define themselves as good, when they treated him so badly?

Look in yourself instead of looking at me
With accusation in your eyes
Do you want me crucified
For my profanity

Every meeting. Every time they saw each other. There was that look in their eyes. He was forced to face it, and every time it hurt. It was worse than the Cruciatus and the beatings he sustained at the hands of the Death Eaters. When they stared at him that way, even when he was clearly showing the signs of his loyalties, it felt like a needle into his heart.

Sometimes he felt like standing before the Dark Lord and admitting his guilt. It would end all this. He would be tortured to death, and would die a nobody.

Anything was better than this.

Concealing your crime behind a grandeur of lies
Tell me where do I begin
If you think you're without sin
Be the first to cast the stone

But they never ever tried anything themselves. They never tried to replicate the life he led. They were happy to let him walk into the web of the spider, into the dragon's mouth. They were happy to let him bow his head, curl his spine, crawl on the floor in front of the Dark Lord. They were happy to let him scream for mercy every time he made a mistake. The smallest of mistakes.

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You're no different to me

Another crash of thunder, coming closer. No one would find him here. If he jumped off the edge now, no one would know. He would be a nobody, just another casualty of the way.

Anything was better than this.


Living my life in a way
That I choose
You say I should apologize
Tell me the truth and I'll admit to my guilt
If you'll try and understand
But is that blood that's on your hand
From your democracy

He had made his choices, he had chosen to do this. He had chosen to go to the Dark. But he had also chosen to return...but this was ignored. No one understood the sacrifices he was making. And he could see. When he looked at them, he could see the blood. They had caused death too. Their fighting was causing people to die. Blood.

There was blood everywhere.

If only it was running from his own veins. Spilling out over the grass on the cliff. Then he would free his soul.

Anything was better than this.

You're no different to me
You're no different
No different to me

Severus Snape stares out at the distance between him and the next level of ground. He can see the sharp rocks, peering up at him from the sea. It seems so inviting. He could just push himself off. Free himself from this mission, this task, this toll—he could no longer repent for his sins. He no longer needed to, he thought he had paid his price.

But no. They would never forgive him. He was nothing to them, nothing to the Dark Lord, nothing to anyone. The Order of the Phoenix had driven him so far from anything he had ever known and understood.

He stares down at the water. He can see colours, purples and blues and greens and his favourite—black—down in the water. It seems so inviting. He could just push himself off. He could fly away from this, free himself from the life that had treated him so badly.

He stares down at his place of death. There is a hand beckoning to him. Would it lead him to heaven or hell? Would he be free? He could just push himself off. He could fall, fall away from this, free himself.

That's all any man ever wants. To be free. That's all he wants. To be free.

As he falls, the same words imprint themselves in his mind. He is no different to them. They are no different to him. It is that similarity that has killed him.

They have souls. He has a soul. That is their similarity.

No man with a soul can live like this.

So it is that similarity that kills him.


You're no different to me
You're no different
No different to me